In Memoriam
by chaoticscribblings
Summary: In memoriam of four teenage wizards navigating their way through the world in the 70s, of countless spells, of temper fueled hexs, of quidditch, of hate, and most of all, of love.
1. Chapter 1

**Uh... So, new story. Well, first story. I was ThatSarcasticOne, but I abandoned that account because I wanted to start fresh, and I wanted to post this story without worrying about the ones on that account. Anyway, this chronicles the second half of the Marauders and friends' 5th year, all of 6th year, and all of 7th year. I hope you enjoy it :-)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize.**

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_Sometime in the Summer of 1971_

* * *

James Potter was entitled, and James Potter was spoiled, but anyone on Magnolia Street would agree that James Potter was quite possibly the sweetest little boy they had ever known. He was homeschooled, they would explain to visitors, watching him and his father and mother in the backyard drinking tea, and had been accepted into some posh boarding school in Scotland that he'd be attending in the fall.

James Potter was the boy who'd bring Mrs. Elena macadamia nut cookies every Friday, rich and sweet and so good there was no way they could have been made normally. She'd tell almost anyone who would listen that Mrs. Potter had a magic touch when it came to baking.

The other neighbors said the same thing, only about Mr. Potter and his handiwork skills. There was nothing, it seemed, that he couldn't fix - and fix fast. Broken toilets, leaking faucets, faulty motors - name it, and Mr. Potter could have it up and running in no time.

So, it was a very sad day indeed when James made his rounds down the street, giving all the neighbors a big hug and promising he'd be back from boarding school for Christmas, and that, yes Mrs. Elena, his mum'd still send over cookies.

* * *

Lily Evans was sweet, Lily Evans was smart, but anyone on Sycamore Cove would agree that the little red head had a temper to match her hair. Anyone who angered her, they would say, would undoubtedly have something odd to happen to them. As the people of the neighborhood weren't particularly suspicious sorts of people, she was well liked, as all pretty young girls are, but everyone seemed to air a little on the side of caution when they were with her. Of course, ladies would whisper around their afternoon tea parties, there couldn't possibly be any connection between the fact Bernice Atrium seemed to have grown unusually thick eyebrows seemingly overnight and the fact she had called Lily a brat the night before.

But still, the Evans. were well liked. Mr. Evans, an accountant who worked in the city, was quite simply the nicest, most polite man anyone had ever met. He was constantly tipping his hat and allowing others through doors first, a cheerful smile on his face.

Mrs. Evans was a gossip, though most everyone in the neighborhood was. Still, hypocritically, they found the quality of little admiration, and the only reason the neighborhood seemed to enjoy her company was that she made the best peach cobbler anyone had ever tasted. It was a pity, they'd say, that her two daughters had never learned to bake like her, though the older one had certainly acquired the propensity for gossip.

So, one hot day in September, as the Evans' drove Lily to the train station, off to an exclusive boarding school no one had ever heard of, many of the ladies pruning their flowerbeds stopped to wave goodbye, as life was certainly going to take a turn for the dreary with the little red head gone.

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**So, it's short, but it's a prologue so, you know. Oh well. I'll post Chapter 1 so there's not only this to read. :-)**

**Please review and all that - tell me what you think. It would mean a lot.**

**- Sunny**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Yeah. If my writing is as good as JK Rowling's, pigs can fly.**

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_December 25th of 1975_

* * *

People who talked to themselves, Lily Evans decided, where undoubtedly barmy. People who talked to themselves in the late morning, when their family was waiting downstairs to greet them with a warm mug of hot chocolate and presents begging to be opened under a too-large-for-the-room Christmas tree, were positively off their rocker. This, of course, implied that _she _was insane, but at that particular moment, Lily didn't care.

She paced her small room, muttering angrily under her breath, the only words any bystanders would have been able to catch being "... sodding…. bloody….. Potter….. hex….". Furious, she kicked the leg of her bed, only to have her toe come off worse and sink onto the covers, nursing it and cursing Potter for not only extremely inconveniencing her on _Christmas, _but for also injuring her in the process.

Sighing angrily, she surveyed her room. Lily had a bit of a dilemma. Her bedroom looked as if a million confetti eggs had exploded in it; colorful bits of paper decorated every inch of space, peeking out from in the shoes she had laying out by the door and the opened pencil case on her desk and her owl, Merlin's, cage (who was hooting disdainfully, as if it were somehow _her _fault that his water dish was now contaminated by strangely colored pieces of paper).

Lily was a witch, and she ought to have been able to do some spell and clean the room all in one movement, but pesky underage wizard laws were to be considered, and what spell would she use anyway? The only one that came to mind was _scourgify_, but would that even work the way she wanted it to? What if it just took all the dirt and dust out of her room and left the god-damned confetti?

The letter Potter had sent her along with confetti eggs (she had to admit, it was a clever bit of spellwork, getting the eggs to explode just as she opened the letter) sat unread on her desk, and Lily had no wish to pick it up and look at the contents. It was probably just another stupid declaration of his love, and her Christmas had _already _been slightly ruined, so she wasn't really in the mood to add salt to the wound.

There was a sharp knock on the door, and then, "Lily! Are you ready yet? Breakfast's ready!"

Lily swore under her breath, hastily replying, "Yeah, Mum, I'll be down in a second. Just, uh, I need to finish up some things."

A pause. "Lily, dear, are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine Mum. I'll be down soon."

"Well, alright then. Just hurry - you don't want your pancakes to get cold."

Great, now Potter was making her miss hot, chocolate-y Christmas pancakes made by her Dad. He was definitely going to pay.

Swiping his letter off her desk, she tossed it in the dustbin before systematically making her way around the room and attempting to pick up the majority of the confetti, as well as the fake eggshells. After a few minutes, she stood still to survey her work.

There were still a few pieces of confetti here and there, but none that would call too much attention to the eye, and if her parents asked, she'd just say they'd been there for _forever_, and didn't they pay attention?

Hurrying down the stairs, Lily skidded to a stop in the Evans' kitchen. It was fairly small, just like the other rooms in the house, but was what Marlene would have called "charming" and "with character", whatever that implied. The other three Evans' were sitting around the breakfast table, a plate of pancakes in the middle and all in the middle of eating from their own plates. Her mother and father both looked up to greet her, her father welcoming with a, "Good morning, Lily, merry Christmas," but Petunia astutely ignored her younger sister, staring fixedly at her pancakes.

Fine. Lily wouldn't bother to acknowledge her either. Pouring herself a glass of milk, the redhead sat down at the empty spot in the table and helped herself to two pancakes.

"So, Lily, what was that loud noise I heard from your room this morning?" Mrs. Evans asked, taking a bite of pancake.

"Oh… it was, it was a schoolmate who'd sent something. But it's fine."

"A schoolmate?" Petunia finally spoke, raising a delicately waxed eyebrow. "Sending you exploding mail? Why am I not surprised?"

"Shut it, Petunia. Just because all _your _mates do is sit around and drink tea and talk about the latest fashion fad doesn't give you the right to rag on mine." It occurred to Lily that she was defending James Potter to her sister, but really, she was defending all her other friends, wasn't she? It just so happened Potter was the example.

Petunia narrowed her eyes. "There you go again, acting as if _your lot _is so much better than the rest of us!"

"I do not! And what do you mean, _my lot_?"

"You know very well what I mean!"

"And I do not act as if they're better."

"You do too"

"I do not! You're just jealous!"

"Of what? Your _friends_? Snape is just creepy, and I'm sure the rest of the lot are exactly the same."

"Sev is not _creepy_!"

"Girls!" Mr. Evans interrupted, giving an exasperated sigh. "It is _Christmas_. There will be no fighting in this house, and especially _not _at the breakfast table. Apologize to each other."

"Sorry," Lily deadpanned, refusing to meet her sister's eye.

"Well, I'm not," Petunia declared. "I've done nothing wrong."

"Nothing _wro-_ are you serious, Petunia?" Lily stood abruptly, setting down her fork. "I'm going upstairs, I'll open presents later."

Ignoring her parents' protests, Lily stormed upstairs, slamming her door. She hated how riled up Petunia could get her - and knew that her sister was probably downstairs smirking to herself.

Gaze drifting around the room, Lily's eyes landed on the unopened stack of letters sitting in the middle of the desk. She'd completely forgotten about about all the other letters she'd received in lieu of James' exploding one, and she peeled herself off the bed, sitting down at her desk chair and opening the first one on the list, from Marlene McKinnon.

_Lily,_

_First, before I bore you with news from my awful life, I hope you're having a good Christmas (or, at least, a better one than me). James wrote me saying he was planning on sending you a rather "interesting" present, so I hope you've read this letter before opening his and have already discarded his (preferably by tossing it in a river somewhere. Though the dustbin will do, I suppose)._

_Anyway, a lot's been happening at home. David just got married to some Greengrass or something (I suppose our family's too "tainted" to be married into the Blacks or like, not that it's much of a loss, and, besides, we have, what, three muggle relatives? Bloody blood puritists) and it was a rather grand wedding, though I think the bride hates me with a burning passion. That's okay, since David has never been my biggest fan either. I suppose he wishes I were another brother._

_Anyway, with Max, Elliot, and David married, that only leaves Vincent and I. Vincent's already promised to Jennifer Yaxley (who's actually quite nice, considering her family), so that just leaves me. And that's where the-whole-reason-I'm-seemingly-depressed comes in._

_I'm betrothed (bloody hell, it's so archaic. Shouldn't I get a say?) to Elijah Nott. Yeah. _

_At least with my brothers, my parents chose halfway decent people. You know, people who aren't so caught up in the whole debate about blood purity that's slowly picking up speed (see, the thing is, Mum and Dad don't believe in all that stuff, but they can't exactly say it out loud because they'd lose a lot of connections that are apparently very helpful to our futures, so they just settled for marrying Max and Elliot and David and Vincent and I to people who aren't complete boneheads. Except, they seemed to have missed the bullseye a little on my arrangement)._

_But Lily, _what the hell am I supposed to do? _I don't want to marry Elijah, and I've half a mind to just make everyone call it off (I have 2 and a half years to figure out _how) _but dear Merlin, you have to help me. I've already written Mary and Emmeline about it, and I know you can't stand Emmeline, and, honestly, I hate her too but in order to keep up the fake pretense that I actually do like her - though I'm not sure how she's not figured out I can't stand her yet, given how rude I am to her - , I wrote her. I didn't explain it like this though, only that I'm now officially engaged. She thinks everything's sunny in Marlene-world._

_It's most definitely thunderstorming, though._

_So, I've been sitting in my room crying for forever and I need you and Mary (and definitely not Emmeline) so if you would PLEASE tell me whether you can meet at Florean's for some ice cream or something tomorrow at noon? And we could get lunch? I think I'll die if I don't have someone to rant to. (And maybe I'll ask James for some firewhiskey. Oh, don't look at me like that, Lily, you know I deserve it right now)._

_And school's going to be hell now. I mean, it's bad enough I'm a Gryffindor (my family doesn't seem to mind, but I'm sure Elijah does) but he's a bloody Slytherin and I'm sorry if I don't want to exactly get chummy with the lot of them. Oh Merlin. Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit._

_Please write back soon and please come and PLEASE help me find a way to get out of this god damn engagement._

_Love,_

_Marlene_

Lily took a deep breath, reading the letter over and over again. Elijah Nott. Elijah Nott was, in nicest terms, an utter and complete arse. He reveled in the hexing of first years - at least the Marauders, for all their faults, only really pulled pranks that at most damaged egos and caused some bruises. Elijah was simply cruel. And Marlene with him… Lily couldn't even begin to imagine how out of place the pairing was. And, it was rather out of character considering the matches Marlene's older siblings had gotten. She'd met a few of their wives, and they had seemed like wonderful people.

Shaking her head, Lily replied, saying that _no, _her Christmas wasn't going too well, but certainly better than Marlene's, and that she'd wished she'd opened Marlene's letter before James' because then she could have avoided the whole fiasco of the morning, and that she'd definitely be there at Florean's because there was no way her mother and father would say no, considering they had absolutely nothing to do.

Then, setting the letter aside to dry, Lily started on reading Mary's.

_Lily,_

_First, did you hear about Marlene? It's absolutely AWFUL, isn't it? I can't even begin to imagine… Just… Wow. (And if you haven't, go read her letter right now)._

_I want to cry for her, but I'm sure we'll all have a cry fest when we're at Florean's (you are coming, right? You better)._

_Have you heard the murmurs going around the wizarding community? That this You-Know-Who guy is starting to stir people up about blood purity (I can't even remember what his real name is)? Mum says it's a load of hippogriff dung and that this has happened before - people being stirred up about this - but it's always gone away. It's sort of a cycle._

_Anyway, I've got to go, but please do come to Florean's. I hope you're having a good Christmas._

_Cheers,_

_Mary_

Mary had never been one to write much, and now was no exception. Lily replied to hers too, mostly just agreeing with what Mary had said, and saying that she, living in a completely Muggle family, hadn't heard much about the blood purity debate going on (Mary was a half-blood, and therefore was well educated on wizarding matters and muggle matters). The last letter was from Emmeline and was rather simple, just asking whether she was having a good holiday or not and saying had she heard about Marlene's engagement, because wasn't it just _wonderful_? Emmeline, Lily thought, had always been a little simple, and it was a wonder she hadn't figured Marlene wasn't happy with the arrangement, especially considering Marlene was a bit of a drama queen and, while having said that she had only told Emmeline about the engagement, had no doubt added a little something to the letter that anyone with half a brain would have interpreted as unhappiness.

It was 10:30 by the time Lily finished all the letters, and she was debating whether to go down and apologize. Petunia, of course, would only take the apology as further proof that Lily was in the wrong, but Lily almost didn't mind. Mostly, she wanted things to go back to how they had been when Lily hadn't known about Hogwarts - when she and her sister were actually close.

If there had been so much as a chance of that, Lily would have done whatever she could to have it. Petunia, though, made no effort to change anything, and Lily was resigned to thinking that this was how it was going to be forever. Still, it couldn't hurt to try, could it? Shaking her head exasperatedly, Lily mentally chided herself. None of this was her fault, therefore _she _was not going to apologize.

A knock on the door startled Lily out of her thoughts, and cautiously, she made her way to the door and opened it. She relaxed at the image of her father, sadly smiling.

"Lily! Can I have a word?"

Lily nodded, retreating back into her room, her father following her and sitting down on her previously occupied desk chair. Mr. Evans was the source of Lily's red hair, though his was graying and, as a result, looked more blonde. He was tall and thin, with a wiry mustache and spectacles he was constantly cleaning. Lily loved her Dad - he had been the one who had been utterly and completely supportive when she had learned she was a witch, while Petunia had been jealous and her mother had been skeptical, then wary.

"You mustn't allow Petunia to rile you up like that…" her father started.

"But it's not my fault! She just… she says things, and they're awful!"

"You sister… I don't think your sister understands some of the things she says, Lily."

"She's seventeen. That's old enough to be an adult in the wizarding world. She's old enough to be held accountable."

"Lily, dear, I think Petunia just feels jealous sometimes. You know how badly she wanted to go to Hogwarts."

Lily did. She and Severus had found a reply from Dumbledore, saying how it was nice to hear from her but how they couldn't just allow anyone into Hogwarts.

"But she doesn't have to take it out on me!"

"Lily, your mother and I really don't want you two fighting."

"Why don't you tell Petunia that?"

"We have, and we will. You need to pull your weight too."

"I _know_, but -," Lily shut her mouth, flopping back onto her bed. It was no use trying to convince her parents that Petunia was in the wrong. That was the annoying thing about parents, she concluded. They could never pick sides, and as a result, everything was always skewed.

"Thank you, Lily. The presents are all sitting under the tree, and I'm assuming you'd like to open them."

Lily smiled, getting up to follow her father out the door. Just as they were at the top of the staircase, a thought occurred to her. "Dad?"

"Mhm?"

"Can I go down to London tomorrow? To Diagon Alley? Some friends want to meet up there, and I haven't seen them all break. At around 12?"

"That should be alright. Just double check with your mother."

With that, Lily bounded down the steps, glad, and a little guilty for feeling so, that Petunia wasn't downstairs.

Christmas was, in general, a happy time for Marlene McKinnon. Sure, there was the occasional "your uncle who loves to talk about blood purity is coming to stay with us for a few days", but Marlene had always associated the holiday with merriment.

This, she bitterly concluded, laying face down on the soft, freshly washed, lemon smelling sheets of her bed, was no longer true.

Maybe she wouldn't have been so sad if she wasn't engaged to Elijah Nott, someone who she had met at quite a few wizarding parties and couldn't stand to be with for more than a couple of minutes. Still, it was the principle of the thing. Arranged marriages were archaic, and however in the past the wizarding world chose to live in, it was the 70s. She deserved to have a say - to have all the say, really - in who she married.

Voicing this aloud to her parents would no doubt cause an uproar and result in some ultimatum that would only make everything worse, so Marlene had retreated upstairs to her room to send angry letters to her friends and to cry.

Lily liked to call her a drama queen, and while Marlene didn't quite disagree, she thought the tears were fairly justified, given the situation. Being engaged to Elijah Nott had to be the worst thing that had ever happened to her - worse than the time she'd fallen off her broom at her first ever quidditch match.

But how was she supposed to break the arrangement? She couldn't just _tell _her parents she wanted out, and she couldn't tell Elijah either. Pure blooded families used marriages to make alliances, and the McKinnons, Marlene knew, needed all the allies they could get. Somewhat out of the ordinary, her family was infamous for interacting with muggles - though not at the scale as, say, the Potters - and she knew that, if her mother and father thought they could, they would have spoken in favor of muggle-born rights long ago.

Too sad to get out of bed, Marlene threw a shoe laying beside her bed at the radio in the corner of her room, her chaser abilities apparent as it hit the on switch and the loud clatter of _Ridgeback Riot _blasted throughout the room, almost drowning out her thoughts.

It was only three minutes - Marlene had been expecting at least five - until the inevitable knock came at the door, some family member relaying the message that her Mum said to keep the music down. "Come in," Marlene muttered, fully aware that, even though she couldn't be heard over the racket of the song, her relative wouldn't bother to ask an answer before opening. She was, however, surprised to see that it was Vincent who had come to berate her - the one brother who would have been the most sympathetic to her cause, being the closest to her.

"Mum says to turn your music down!" He yelled, not bothering for an answer as he walked over and turned the volume so low she could hardly hear it. He then turned to her, blonde, shaggy hair (her mother had for ages been trying to get him to cut it, to no avail) flopping in his face as he took in her disheveled appearance and red eyes. "Have you been crying?"

"No, you idiot, I've been laughing. Of course I've been crying. It's Elijah bloody Nott."

"Rather bad, isn't it?" Vincent asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed and giving Marlene a reassuring pat on the knee.

She gave a mirthful laugh. "Rather bad? It's bloody awful."

"It's rather unladylike to swear, Marlene, dear," Vincent said in a high falsetto, mimicking their mother. Both siblings collapsed into giggles, but Marlene quickly sobered up, remembering she was supposed to be wallowing in self-pity.

"Oh, whatever..." She paused, "Vincent, can I tell you something? And you have to promise not to tell Mum, or Dad, for that matter, since he'll go and tell it to Mum, or Max, Elliot, or David since they'll tell Mum too."

"Promise."

"I don't want to get married to Nott. I don't even want to have an arranged marriage. Is it so bad I want to _choose _who I spend the rest of my life with?"

Vincent paused, and Marlene almost regretted telling him, until, with a sigh, "I don't either."

"Wait, what?"

"I don't want to get married Jennifer."

"But... she's so nice! Why wouldn't you want to get married to her?"

At this, Vincent looked uncomfortable and, instead of answering the question, said, "Marlene, it's okay to want to control your future. You should tell Mum."

"There's no way in hell I'm telling Mum. She won't listen to me anyway. I'll just have to come up with some sort of plan. Like... Maybe I'll make Elijah hate me. I'll take some potion and grow a bunch of pimples and make my breath smell like garlic!"

"Mar, that's idiotic."

"Oh, well then, Mr. Know-it-all, what do _you _propose I do?"

Vincent ran a hand through his hair, shrugging. "I dunno. We'll both figure out something together though, okay? So we can _both _get out of our marriages."

"Alright. Alright, that should work. I'm meeting up with Lily and Mary tomorrow anyway - I'm sure they'll have some ideas."

"Great." Vincent got up and walked towards the door, then hesitated, as if there was something he wanted to say. Clearly thinking better of it, he exited the room, leaving Marlene to wonder what exactly his reason was for not wanting to marry Jennifer.

If Marlene was honest, Jennifer wasn't particulary suited for Vincent. She was nice, with a charming personality and a big smile, and she was in Ravenclaw, which wasn't a half-bad house, and she was pretty, too, with straight, black, shiny hair and porcelain skin, but she just wasn't _right. _Vincent was too tall for her, and rugged, and quite athletic, but refused to try out for the Gryffindor quidditch team on the grounds that he was scared of heights. He was into muggle music and a muggle drink called coffee and really muggle anything, while Jennifer probably didn't know what a car was, let alone the workings of Parliament, something Vincent had studied in detail and written a report on for Muggle Studies. Truthfully, Marlene admitted, Jennifer, while good at schoolwork, was a bit of an airhead, and Vincent needed someone to intellectually stimulate him, if not hold four hour conversations on economics (whatever that was) with him.

There was yet another knock on her door, and Marlene groaned as David entered the room. He and his wife and come to spend the holidays, but Marlene half wished they hadn't. His wife - Marlene still wasn't completely sure of her name, on account of having never tried to learn it - was the most serious woman she'd ever met, and Marlene had grow up with her _mother. _And to make things worse, the bride was also incredibly stuffy, with absolutely archaic ways of looking at things. Everytime Marlene dared to wear anything other than dress, which was quite often, she would recieve a disapproving glare and a _tsk tsk._ Well, whatever-the-hell-the-bride's-name-was could _tsk tsk _herself right out of Marlene's house. Marlene had half a mind to push her out herself.

"Mum wants you to come down and converse with the family," David said, awkwardly avoiding her eyes.

"Tell Mum to go kiss a grindylow."

"Marlene! I know you're not happy with the match, but that gives you no right to -"

"Not happy? How'd you guess? Of course I'm not happy with the match - it's bloody awful."

David gave a resigned sigh. "Just come down, Marlene."

Marlene fell facefirst onto her bed, mumbling "Go away," into her pillow.

"Fine, but come down in five minutes." David left the room, leaving Marlene alone. She stayed in bed the rest of the day.

_December 26 of 1975_

"D'you think she got it?"

Sirius Black sighed, rolling over onto his back and staring up at James' bedroom's wall. "Prongs, you sent it hours ago. And it's not like she lives in Africa. She's probably opened it."

"But she hasn't written back!"

At this, it was Remus Lupin's turn to sigh. "Well, considering the fact it probably exploded in her _face_, I'd say she's not really in the mood to write back professing her gratitude and undying love."

"It was supposed to be _festive_," James groaned, running a hand through his hair.

"You probably singed her eyebrows off," Peter replied.

This caused James to groan again. He'd honestly thought it was a good idea - alright, he'd had his doubts, but _he _was out of Christmas ideas and he didn't actually want to _buy _anything for Lily since she'd probably just throw that out. The charm to blow the confetti eggs up had taken quite a bit of tricky spellwork - he'd only gotten away with it since he'd made sure to do it when his parents were up (the Ministry had no way of telling _who _was doing the magic, only that magic was being done) - and he'd at least expected a reply telling him that, while the spell was annoying, it was very well done.

James voiced this out loud, and received three very incredulous looks.

"Prongs, mate, this was your worst idea yet," Sirius stated.

Remus shook his head, cocking it to the side, "Well, I mean, it wasn't your _worst _idea yet, but it definitely wasn't anything close to good."

"Thank you, Moony. And, if I remember correctly, it was _your _idea, Padfoot."

Sirius smirked, grabbing a pillow off of James' bed and whacking him in the head with it, ignoring the messy haired boy's protests as he said, "Exactly. You should know better than to agree to my ideas."

"That was rude."

"It's not like it's possible to mess your hair up even more."

"_That _was rude."

"Sirius, stop insulting James. James, stop pining after Lily as if she secretly has feelings for you. There's a less than one percent chance she actually does."

"Oi! I resent that statement," James protested.

"It's true, though. I mean, she's never even come _close _to saying yes. I'm not saying you should move on, but, yeah, move on."

"I am _not _moving on. I'll just have to be extra charming this year."

Sirius snorted and Peter collapsed into a fit of giggles at James' confident tone, and he turned to them, eyebrows raised. "You'll see. I'll get Lily to go out on a date with me."

"No, Prongs, you probably won't," Peter said through giggles, at least managing to look apologetic.

"I resent that statement too."

"You resent _all _statements that have anything to do with you not getting Lily - basically every one where your names are in the same sentence," Sirius noted, still smirking.

"You're all gits."

"But Prongsie, you love us anyway."

"I hate you all."

Remus clutched his chest, widening his eyes. "James… James, you can't actually mean it?"

"Oh, but I do." James laughed, pushing himself off his bed. In actuality, James was fully aware - albeit a little in denial - of the fact that Lily Evans had no feelings for him... Yet. He couldn't see her resisting his advancements _forever_, and really, the only reason she resisted in the first place was she didn't know him well enough. And that was quite alright with James, who would spend any time he needed acquainting himself more personally to the redhead.

The eyes of the quidditch players whose posters adorned his wall seemed to follow him as we walked to the door. "You lot up for some ice cream? Mum said she won't be home until three and that we can floo to Diagon Alley if want."

"Yeah, alright," Peter said, getting up to join James. The other two followed, and the four boys made their way out of James' rooms and to the family room, where a pot of green powder sat on the mantleplace of the large, brick fireplace. For as long as James had lived in the house, there had never been a fire burning inside - the danger, his father had explained, was too great to family that might come calling when least expected.

"I'll go first," James offered, throwing a pinch of powder into the fireplace and stepping in after it, saying, "Diagon Alley." There was a curious falling sensation, and then James opened his eyes to the bustle of the street. There were plenty of witches and wizards out on the streets, and Florean's already looked fairly crowded. The other three boys appeared a moment later, and the four made their way to Florean Fortescue's, almost completely passing by a familiar blond-haired girl sitting at one of the tables alone.

"Marlene?" Peter asked, stopping and turning back to look at her. James turned too, and took in what was quite possibly the most dejected looking Marlene McKinnon he had ever seen. She was sitting at the table, staring at her ice cream as if it had done something to personally offend her. At Peter's voice, she looked up and gave a small smile.

"Hey."

"Someone doesn't look chipper," Sirius remarked, pulling out a chair across from her and sitting down.

Besides him, James could see Remus subtly groan at Sirius' lack of tact. "Sorry for Sirius' stupidness. We don't want to intrude or anything," the sandy haired boy said, sending a glare in Sirius' direction.

Sirius just shrugged.

Marlene have a quiet laugh. "No, it's alright. I'm actually waiting for Mary and Lily - they should be here any moment. How was you lot's Christmas?"

But all James had heard was Lily. "Lily? She's coming?"

Sirius groaned, leaning in closer to Marlene and faux whispering, "He's sort of obsessing over the fact she didn't write him back about his exploding eggs."

"That was a stupid idea, by the way," Marlene remarked, absentmindedly stirring her bowl of lemony-looking ice cream.

"It was _Sirius'_, not mine! And are you going to eat that ice cream, or stare at it like it killed your grandmother?"

At this, Remus groaned at James' lack of tact. "Apparently," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose, "_two _of my friends are complete arses."

Marlene shook her head, "No, James is right. I shouldn't be taking out my anger at this world on this poor bowl of ice cream. It's destined to be eaten, and I needn't put it through the additional pain of having to deal with my suffering."

All four boys chuckled at Marlene's dramatic speech, and she gave a small, appreciative smile and then returned to staring at her ice cream. This struck James as odd - the Marlene he knew would have seen the laughter as invitation to go on, and soon enough she'd have had the ice cream's entire life story in detail, along with it's first time on a broomstick and the time it lost its virginity in a closet.

"Marls... Really, tell me what's wrong," James urged, sitting down at the table.

"At this rate, I might as well tell Lily and Mary to not bother coming - there won't be any room at the table."

James sent Marlene an exasperated look.

"Alright, alright, fine. I'm engaged."

At this, all four boys' mouths shot open, and James felt a rush of sympathy. He'd always known, of course, that Marlene would one day have an arranged marriage (it was one of the many pure blooded traditions his own parents had decided to pass by), but he'd never thought she'd be so upset by the fact. After all, she'd have to have known this day was coming.

"Well, I mean, it can't be _so _bad," Sirius offered. He, James knew, had escaped the arranged marriage situation on account of how he was a complete and utter disgrace to his family of pure blood maniacs, who didn't see it fit to award their son with a marriage arrangement. Of course, to Sirius, this was a good thing, especially considering he'd been hearing of being engaged to Alecto Carrow, a particularly ghoulish looking girl whose name only stuck in James' memory because of a prank she'd been unfortunate enough to be caught in a few years before.

"Well, I mean, I'd always known it was coming... But I'd assumed my parents would choose someone _decent_," Marlene sniffed, wiping away a few tears that had begun their descent down her cheeks with the sleeves of her coat. "Not Elijah Nott."

James felt his jaw drop open wider. Elijah Nott was, even without his general dislike towards muggle borns, an arse, and the thought of Marlene marrying him was almost enough to make even the strongest stomach upchuck their breakfast.

"Oh Merlin," Remus practically whispered. "I'm so sorry."

"Yeah, well, I'm getting out of it. I'm going to find some way to get out of it."

"Already telling anyone and everyone about the engagement, I see," a female's voice sounded, and James turned around to see Mary McDonald sauntering towards the table, her short, brown hair bobbing up and down as she reached the Marauders and Marlene and gave a little smile to the former, enveloping the latter in an engulfing hug. For a girl who was so little, James marveled, she was surprisingly strong.

"Hi Mary," Marlene greeted, half-heartedly returning the hug. "It's wonderful to see you."

Mary pulled away, examining her friend with a quirked eyebrow. "Is that a way to greet your moral support?"

"Mary McDonald, thank you _ever _so much for joining me - without you and your support you have yet to give, I would be absolutely nothing!"

Mary smiled. "Much better."

"Oi!" Sirius exclaimed, grinning. "We offered moral support too!"

"Yes, but I _like _Mary," Marlene clarified, the ghost of a real smile on her face. It was then that James noticed just how sickly Marlene looked. Her skin, though usually pale, was unnaturally so, and her big, brown eyes were rimmed with red. She was also dressed differently than she usually did when she went out in public - a sweater, track pants, and trainers instead of the usual put together ensemble.

"We're here if you need to talk though, alright?" James said, turning the conversation towards a more serious path.

"I know. Thank you, really, but I don't want to bring down your whole afternoon with my boring, though at the moment quite shitty, life. You lot go get ice cream or something."

James almost protested, but a look from Mary silenced him, so he nodded, and he and the four others left the table.

"Marlene!" Lily called, pushing her way through the throng of people standing in the middle of Diagon Alley. Her elbow accidentally collided with what seemed to be a lady's breast, who turned and gave her a dirty look, Lily returning the favor. People who stood in the middle of crowded streets, chatting, were quite possibly the most annoying people Lily ever encountered, and as she had no patience for crowded places in the _first _place, her mood was only going sour.

Pushing through two more families and a big guy who seemed to be debating whether to feel her up or not (Lily gave _him _a particularly nasty look), she finally made her way to Marlene and Mary, both sitting with ice creams in front of them and Marlene looking as if she wanted to sink onto the floor and never get up again.

"I'm _so sorry_ I'm late, Mar," Lily greeted, sliding into a seat in the middle of Mary and Marlene, biting her lip. "Are you… you doing okay?"

Marlene shook her head.

"She was worse before," Mary offered, giving the blonde a pat on the arm.

"Couldn't have been that much of a change - Marlene, you're wearing _track pants_," Lily exclaimed, taking in the unusual attire Marlene had decided to don. It almost looked as if she had rolled out of bed and come straight to Diagon Alley. In fact, if Lily wasn't absolutely certain Marlene couldn't function without taking a shower in the morning, she would have thought that was true.

"There's nothing wrong with track pants!" Marlene defended, self-consciously sinking deeper into her chair.

"Well, of course there's nothing wrong with track pants," Mary said, "I wear them all the time! It's just, there's something wrong with track pants on _you _that's any day but a weekend you're spending holed up in the dorm studying. Or, right after quidditch. Marlene McKinnon doesn't wear track pants out in public!"

"Obviously I am right now."

"That's what we're _saying_," Lily explained, sighing. "Marlene, stop feeling sorry for yourself."

"No."

"Really, this whole thing isn't _that _bad, and there has to be a way out of it."

"Not that bad? _Not that bad? _This is the worst thing that could possibly happen to me!"

"And there you go, being all dramatic again," Mary remarked. "It really isn't, Mar."

"I'm not being dramatic!" At this, Marlene gave a little grin. "I am, aren't I?"

"You are." Mary matter-of-factly stood up, pulling Marlene out of her chair and nodding to Lily, who followed, leaving their half-eaten ice cream at the table despite Marlene's protesting.

"Mary! Ice cream's my comfort food - we can't just leave it there!"

"We can, and we will. We're going to go shopping and buy you something that'll make you forget your stupid engagement. _Right_, Lily?" Mary's tone left no room for argument, so Lily just nodded, shaking her head a little, a smile playing on her lips as she followed her two best friends down the cobblestone street of Diagon Alley.

* * *

**I hope you guys liked that, or at least semi-enjoyed reading it :-) Please please leave a review with your opinion - it would really help me.**

**- Sunny**


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